The White Wolf
by Cassidie Dream
Summary: We all know the hot-headed temperamental wolf, Paul, but what about his twin sister? And what happens when she returns home for the big battle between The Cullens' and The Volturi? NOTE: In this story, Molly Weasly does not murder Bellatrix Lestrange.
1. Prologue

**A/N: ****Hey there! I'm still fairly new here so please don't go all macho man or macho girl on me. I don't really know if this idea has been done before because I really haven't had time to search the whole Twilight/Harry Potter crossover archive. I did try to develop the idea by myself. It's been buzzing around in my head for months now, but I've never quite had the time to write it down. I really have tried my utmost hardest to make the plot as unique as possible so I would be really grateful for any feedback you have, it being good or bad.**

**Another thing: this story is a flyer right now because there really is no point writing if nobody is reading. So again, reviews would very much be appreciated. Whether it's good or bad, I really, really, really would like to know what you think!**

**Chapter One**

In the state of Washington, under a regularized cloud of rain, there lays a tiny town named Forks. Next to it, an even tinier reservation called La Push.

La Push is a tiny area made of only fifty buildings, give or take some. Ten of which are the schools. There's a few shops scattered of the highway and the rest are houses. Most of the space in this tiny reservation is either an open area or part of the forest which links the two towns, if you could call them that, together.

All the people in La Push are very friendly and like a huge family. Of course, this big family is made up of lots of small ones. One of which is the Lahote family, made of three people, one adult and two children.

The Lahote family are unlike any other family on the reservation, different in so many ways. The ties between them are very loose and almost no communication takes place. There is Nathan Lahote, the father, Paul Lahote, his son and Lizzie Lahote, his daughter and also Paul's twin sister.

Nathan Lahote was a man who took much pride in his work. He worked as a police officer for the towns of Forks and La Push. Ever since his wife had passed, he seemed to have got more engrossed in his job, hardly ever coming home to his kids. His friends often tell him to take time off, but he is a man who doesn't like being told what to do. His behaviour affected his two young children very much. His son in particular.

Paul had always been a boy of freewill and goodness, ever ready to help someone in need. He had a joking nature and always had a nick of bringing out the best in people. His mood was highly contagious and everyone around him couldn't help but smile. But ever since a traumatic incident that cost him his mother, his life changed. Many people wanted to help this poor young boy, but he would let no-one in. The change in life affected him in many ways. He never seemed to want to smile anymore and leaned very much on his best friend Jared. Paul would neglect everyone else that tried to talk and even neglected his own twin sister, Lizzie.

Lizzie was the kind of girl that everyone loved to be around. Much like her twin. The only difference was that she was quite a quiet girl. Loving and caring, Lizzie was the kind of person that got noticed by everyone. Her artistic abilities also made her stand out from the crowd. At every chance she would get, she would stay locked up in her bedroom, drawing the latest fashion designs or simply drawing anything that came into her thoughts. But after her Mother had passed away, she secluded herself from the world. Not willing to participate in activities that required more than one person. Her constant withdrawal meant that she was falling behind in quite a few of her subjects at school. People were starting to get worried about her and kept trying to question her about her unusual behaviour.

It was only one morning while she was making her breakfast she realised her whole life was about to change, and this my friends, is where our story begins.

**A/N:**** So… What did you think? If you liked it, hated it or want more like it, just review and let me know!**

**PLEASE NOTE: I didn't have a beta for the prologue so sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors.**


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: ****I know, I know. It's been a life since I last updated. I've been really busy with school. Right! Enough of the excuses and on to explaining:**

**First, I know it's really short, but I'm working to make the chapters longer.**

**Second, I'll try to update in the next week.**

**Third, thanks to all those who reviewed, put my story on alert and on their favourites! My goal for the end of the story – which will be more than twenty chapters – is one hundred reviews. Please help me meet it!**

**And fourth, I've got a new website you might want to check out. It'll have occasional spoilers. Also, I know it's like Stephaniiie's, but no copyright infringement is intended.**

**www(dot)cassidiedream(dot)webs(dot)com**

**Chapter One**

Lizzie rolled over in bed, restless from another nights dreams. She didn't know what they were; what they meant. Over the past week she had been having them: a flash of green light, a flicker of pain, a scream, and then it was all over. At least, that's what she thought.

She'd often ponder over them, but then brush them off as nothing. So that's what she did now.

Peering at the small clock on her bedside table, Lizzie's eyes widened; she rushed to have a shower and brush her teeth, before going to make her father and brother breakfast.

When she reached downstairs, she went straight to the stove to start making eggs, bacon, sausages and eggy bread - more formally known as French toast.

She was only halfway through breakfast when a tapping and scratching sound echoed throughout the kitchen, breaking her from her reverie. Her head snapped up to the source of the sound, eyes widening as she found it.

There, outside on the window ledge, was a large russet coloured owl, a small envelope in its hooked beak.

Lizzie hopped off her spot on the counter and rushed to the other side on the kitchen, almost tripping in her hurry.

When she finally got the window wide enough, the bird - with a short flutter of its wings - landed on her arm.

"Hello," she mumbled to it. "What are you doing here?"

The bird dropped the letter onto the counter in front of her; fluttered over to the three cups of orange juice she had just poured, and dipped its beak in.

Lizzie watched open mouthed at the bird intruder, but snapped it shut when it turned to glare at her – or so she thought. It turned out the bird was glaring at the letter, so she skipped over to the counter and picked up the letter – it was made of thick, yellow parchment, an unusual material. The letter was surprisingly heavy; she quickly scanned the front and saw the addressee (written in emerald green ink) crammed into the small right-hand corner at the top.

Miss L. Lahote

13 Cherry Tree Avenue

La Push

Washington

Shakily, Lizzie turned the letter over and saw a purple wax seal, bearing a court of arms. It had a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake, surrounding a large letter 'H'. She slowly began to tear the envelope open, but became too impatient, and ripped the rest of it open. She pulled out the letter, scrambled to open it, and started reading, her eyebrows furrowing as she did:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Lahote,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Lizzie stared at the letter in shock. What was it? Was this a sick joke? Different thoughts and questions zoomed around her mind; she had to grip to on to the edge of the counter to stop her from falling.

Just then, a light creak sounded from her father's bedroom - which was directly on top of the kitchen.

Lizzie quickly ran upstairs and deposited the letter on her desk before running back down to find her father sat at the dining table, his eyes cast down. She quickly went over to the stove to finish off making breakfast.

When she had plated everything up, and was heading with a plate of food, she jumped and almost sent the food crashing down to the floor. Now seated at the table was her brother - Paul. The scene would have been quite amusing to a stranger, two males (who looked very much alike), sat opposite each other at a table, arms folded, eyes down, but Lizzie knew all too well what was chasing their minds: her mother.

She sighed before setting the plates in front of them, waiting for them to say thank you. They didn't. Sighing again, Lizzie realized it was pointless expecting a single word from them, apart from when she asked them questions.

A few minutes later, Paul pushed his barely touched plate of food away and stood behind his chair. He seemed to be hesitating to say what he was going to say, Lizzie analysed, as he kept shifting from foot to foot.

Finally, he spoke.

"I'm going out with Jared. I won't be back tonight."

Nathan nodded once in approval without looking up, and then carried on eating. Lizzie gave Paul a torn look; it clearly said don't go. Paul ignored it before rushing upstairs to grab his jacket and then ran outside, slamming the door behind him.

Lizzie choked back a sob before inhaling deeply, trying to ignore what just happened. She failed. Getting her head around why her family are like walking talking zombies was, well, difficult.

Again, she brushed off the thoughts that came to haunt her every day. She exhaled loudly, and then went to empty Paul's plate in the dustbin.

Her father stood up, going to drop his plate in the kitchen sink. He stood there for a minute, contemplating whether to wash it or not, but then he grabbed the brush, poured a bit of washing up liquid on it, and began rinsing.

Lizzie watched, open mouthed, at her father, but then snapped it shut. She knew what she had to do, but didn't how to ask about _it._

She didn't know how else to word it, so she blurted out the first question that came to her mind.

"What do you know about Hogwarts?"

**A/N: ****Oooh! Cliff hanger! You'll just have to wait. And I know it's a bit of cheek because I never updated, but a review? Please?**


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: ****Short author's note this time. I never updated in ages because I only got a single review, so I lost focus. But it still gave me motivation to carry on, so this chapter is dedicated to melissaswilliamore13 for her review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Twilight or Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Two**

Nathan dropped the plate; it clattered to floor of the sink, leaving a horrible crashing sound to echo around the kitchen. He turned to look at Lizzie, his own eyes wide.

Lizzie, herself, was watching her father with great puzzlement. She hadn't been expecting her father to know anything about Hogwarts: in fact, she had been expecting him to question her sanity at such a hideous question about such a hideously named school.

Lizzie was lost deep in thought when her father began to speak, making her jump.

"How do you know about that?" he asked slowly, emphasising each word.

"I-I g-got a l-l-letter and I-I thought I-I'd ask-k y-you if y-you knew a-anything about-t it." She hadn't realised her own stuttering, she was too busy staring, transfixed, at the glare plastered on her father's face. Did she offend him? Why was he so angry? How did he know about Hogwarts? Was she finally going to find out?

Again, he fathers' voice broke her out of her thoughts, making her jump yet again.

"Go and get it from upstairs, I want to read it." The authority in her fathers' voice made Lizzie dart out of the room, up the stairs, and back down again. She handed her father the envelope silently, watching to see his reaction: it was composed; his eyes gave little away as he pulled out the letter from the thick envelope.

Quickly, his eyes scanned the green text, expression changing as he did. It changed from anger to fury, back to anger, and then last of all, the least expected, sadness. A tear slowly trickled down his face and he wiped it away roughly.

"It is what is says," he finally spoke, after a long moment of silence.

"Pardon?"

"A school of witchcraft and wizardry," he snapped.

"But," she thought how to word this. She finally managed to speak. "How can something like that exist? And why only me? Why not Paul?"

Now her father shrugged his shoulders, clearly not interested in what she had to say.

"So how do I get there?" Lizzie asked. She felt rather upset; she already knew her father wouldn't answer.

Again, her father shrugged her shoulders and started washing up.

It was only then she realised the envelope lying, perfectly still, on the table where her father had flung it. Even though the letter was out of it (on the floor), it still looked rather thick. She cautiously walked towards it, glancing at her father, who was scrubbing the dishes rather ferociously, along the way. Picking it up she saw another letter inside the envelope, not made from the same material as the first, but rather usual paper. It read:

_Dear Miss Lahote,_

_We, at Hogwarts, have taken into account that you do not live in Scotland, where the school is based. Please find enclosed with this envelope an airline ticket to reach to Heathrow, London (you depart at Port Angeles) where I shall be waiting for your arrival. After you arrive, I shall escort you to 'The Leaky Cauldron' where you shall wait for the Hogwarts' Gamekeeper – Rubeus Hagrid – to collect you all the necessities needed throughout the school year (see fourth paper attached to letter). Please do not wonder about at anytime and stick solely to the instructions provided above._

_Hope you are well,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Now that made more sense, Lizzie thought to herself.

The only problem was that she would have to ask her father to take her to the airport, something she would rather not do.

Running upstairs, she flopped down on her bed, pondering over all the different answers that her father might say. Maybe he would say 'Sorry, I'm working that day', or maybe he might say 'I can't take you, I have to look after Paul'.

"Paul," she whispered to herself. What would she tell him? That she's a witch and he's not, and she's going to a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he's not?

Then she did something, unexpected, even to herself, and texted Paul on his cell phone, asking him to come home.

He didn't reply, much to her dismay, and she found herself getting teary-eyed. _I'm so dumb, _she thought to herself, _of course he wouldn't answer. It's never been the same since mom died._

It was as though something had hit Lizzie, with the force of a lightning bolt.

"_Mom_,"_ she_ whispered to herself.It had to be her. She must have been a witch, how else would she have gotten the traits in her blood?

"Dad?" she yelled out, rushing to the top of the stairs.

"What is it?" he asked in an unusual cheery tone.

"We need to talk. About Mom."

And so the rest of the afternoon was spent with her questioning her father about her late mother; they soon found themselves laughing and joking about all the good times they had with her around, and at the end of the conversation, she grabbed her father and hugged him hard, telling him never to leave her again. His reply was simply a short chuckle, and a remark about how she was leaving him; of course, he was joking, like his old self.

The rest of the week was quite cheerful after that, she'd sent a letter back to Hogwarts, accepting her place (the owl waited very patiently on the dining table in the kitchen, she'd even given him a bit of lettuce), she felt she had her father back and she felt more alive than she had done in years.

The only missing thing was Paul.

Confronting Paul turned out much more of a challenge than Lizzie had hoped, and she found herself chickening out at every opportunity. When she'd see him at breakfast, and her father would prompt her with his eyebrows, she couldn't; when she'd walk with him to the skate park and it was just the two of them, she couldn't. She thought she'd never pluck up the courage, but the strangest of things happened on the Wednesday before she was set to leave when she was packing a few of her belongings.

Paul shifted from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for a response to the two short knocks he'd just rapped on the younger twins' wooden door.

Inside the room, Lizzie panicked; thrust her bag under the bed then grabbed a book of her desk and opened it to any page before calling out, "come in."

Paul hesitantly pushed open the door and peered inside. Lizzie smiled up at him, clearly pleased that now she'd have the golden opportunity to tell him.

"Dad told me you're going to a boarding school in Scotland."

Her smile quickly fell from the place on her face, and was replaced by a sympathetic look because of the hurt in Paul's eyes. Her heart was thumping painfully in her chest, like she was telling the old Paul, the one she was best friends with.

"Yeah," she whispered, "it's called Harmeed." Failing to make her voice sound nonchalant, Paul quirked his brows at her, telling her the way he used to that she was his twin, don't try to lie or deceive.

Before patting the place next to her on the single bed, she sighed deeply. Paul had made himself comfortable now, and when he spoke, his tone of voice shocked Lizzie.

"Why?" he whispered, "why are you leaving me?"

Lizzie sighed again, as though she thought this conversation was pointless, but sucked in a deep breath and answered anyway. "Things aren't like they used to be. I don't feel at home anymore - not like I used to. You-you changed, and I just want to follow in Mom's footsteps. I just know she'd want one of us to."

Paul kept his facial expressions masked carefully and he whispered again, "If that's what you want," before getting up to leave.

Lizzie looked up, not wanting to end on a sad note like this.

She stood up and went to grab Paul's shoulder; pulled him back and hugged him hard.

"I'll miss you," she said, a tear trickling down her cheek, "I'll always write to you and come home for Christmas and Easter and-and-"

"Shhh," Paul hushed her, stroking her hair in a soothing way. He pushed her back gently and said what he wanted to all along. Gently, he started, "Don't let us hold you back, and go where you want to go. Write when you can, visit when you can, just don't ever forget me. Don't forget Dad."

Before bursting into hysterics, Lizzie mock punched Paul in the shoulder and hugged him again, a little harder.

"Oh, Paul, you idiot," she sobbed loudly, "I could never forget you! And just remember, I'm going to miss you, so much."

"And I'm going to miss you to," said Paul, a tear of his own trickling down his cheek.

**A/N: ****Please review, it really does make me want to update.**


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N:**** OMG! It's been around four months since I updated! I'm so sorry. And for the last chapter I received a load of reviews! I really hope this doesn't put you guys off, seriously. I really want to thanks LynxMalfoy for helping me with this and I also want to thank oystersweet for giving me inspiration for this chapter. This is by far the longest one and I really hope I get some reviews. (Hint Hint)**

**Chapter Three**

It'd been exactly a week since Lizzie's confrontation with Paul and she still couldn't believe how peacefully it had all gone. She'd expected more: shouting, punching, kicking, but least of all crying. It made her feel glad in a way, but also sad. Glad as she was it was over, she'd rarely get the chance to see Paul anymore, and the last week she'd spent with him - back to normal - wasn't enough to fully quench the need of her older-by-ten-minutes twin.

But she'd have to leave all that behind and 'take it like a man,' as Paul had put it.

So after breakfast on that particularly rare and bright Wednesday in La Push, Lizzie walked into the hallway with her head held high. Her father, and Paul, were already there. Her father armed with her suitcase and Paul with her bag.

"You ready?" Paul asked, grabbing her hand.

"As I'll ever be." She smiled back a weak smile, but there was something about it that made Paul start grinning like a fool.

Her father, who'd always loved watching his two troublesome yet so loveable children interact, looked at them with a small, but clear, wistful; smile on his lips.

x x x

Everything seemed so much more realistic now that Lizzie was at the airport - in England. Her head was spinning slightly as she tried to remember what had happened before the flight: the goodbyes, the hugs, the kisses, the tears.

"Miss?" the air hostess's voice sounded.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Don't take this offensively, but have you any idea who you are looking for?"

"Um..." she started, her eyes searching frantically over the crowd for any sign of Professor McGonagall, "not real-" Her voice stopped short as her eyes landed on a tall cloaked figure standing not too far (a couple of meters) away. The figure was a woman, a woman with hair coiled at the back of her head in a tight, small bun; her face looked anxious, slightly, and her thin lips were pressed together in firm line. However, her face was disciplined and her slightly anxious expression was carefully masked. Somehow, the woman's features reminded Lizzie distinctly of a cat. As her and Lizzie's eyes met, her thin lips spread into a small smile.

The woman started to walk towards Lizzie, and her movements were graceful and fast, leaving her emerald green cloak swishing behind her. She reached Lizzie within a few seconds.

"Lizzie Lahote?" She questioned. Her voice was warm: it had an edge to it that sounded a bit like a mother, but it was firm as well, a little bit strict.

Lizzie could only nod stiffly, she was too mesmerised by the woman.

Professor McGonagall, Lizzie assumed, turned to the flight attendant and said, "I'll take her from here. Thank you for looking after her."

The attendant nodded stiffly, her eyes looked shocked and, as Lizzie inferred, a little scared. Turning around, she gave another small smile (directed at Lizzie) and scurried away to join the others', who were watching the scene with curious eyes.

Professor McGonagall mumbled something incoherently; the flight attendants turned away and started animatedly talking amongst themselves.

Lizzie's jaw dropped. Had Professor McGonagall just used magic? With all these people around? Is that why the hostesses' had turned around?

"Miss Lahote," Professor McGonagall said. "Follow me. And please don't go wondering off.

Lizzie nodded, but by the time she looked behind, Professor McGonagall was already metres ahead. She chased after her and was soon walking alongside her in short, sharp strides. Words were seemingly getting stuck in Lizzie's throat as every few seconds she'd glance nervously up at Professor McGonagall, and then straight ahead again after taking in her strict composure and slightly pursed lips.

"You know," Professor McGonagall spoke, breaking the silence. "You look a lot like your mother." Despite the fact she was practically floating along the pavement, she was still careful in her words and wasn't at all breathless.

"Do I?" Lizzie queried excitedly.

"Yes, you do. The similarities between your features and her features are quite unbelievable - almost scary in a way."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"What was she like?" Lizzie questioned.

But she didn't answer, for they had stopped outside a shabby looking building, sat in the furthest corner from where they stood. Upon it was a sign that read 'The Leaky Cauldron'. It had faded black brick walls and was slightly tilted to one side. Lizzie was sure she wouldn't have noticed it if Professor McGonagall hadn't pointed it out.

"Well, this is where you'll be staying for the time being. Be sure to stay indoors. Tom, the barman, will show you to your room where you'll stay until Hagrid comes to collect you to start your school shopping."

"Ok," Lizzie answered shakily. Her nerves were starting to kick in now. She'd hoped Professor McGonagall would come inside with her, but she just stood there, smiling reassuringly.

She took the first few steps before picking up her speed. Without looking back, she quietly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room inside looked completely strange. There were a group of women, witches (she assumed) sat in the far corner all drinking and chatting animatedly; a man sat mumbling something to himself and group of wizards sat eagerly chattering loudly away to each other.

An old man sat on a stool behind the counter and oddly enough, he was staring at her intently. Lizzie walked over and greeted him, formally introducing herself. Tom (he insisted she call him that) led her across a wooden corridor to a numberless room gently pushed her inside.

"Your room, Miss Lahote." And he shut the door behind.

Lizzie trudged over to the bed and plonked down on top of it. _Well, _she thought, _I better start getting used to this now, _before laying back and falling into a soft and heavy sleep where pink and blue bunnies existed.

**A/N:**** I'd like to thank:**

**melissaswilliamore13, .wolves, Hayley, Sara and Kisa, MusicIsAlwaysThere, apple, SilentTalker2000, StandardAngelChild21, Guest and LynxMalfoy without whom this story wouldn't have got this far.**

**Please drop a review and let me know what you think!**


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